


Mythological

by hiilikedragons



Series: life sucks for lotor in this 'verse [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Lotor (Voltron), Crying, Guilt, M/M, Rape, Top Lance (Voltron), don't eat strange mushrooms, he's not really an elf, i can't write feisty lotor for the life of me, innocent maiden lotor, to be fair lance gets super strength, weak lotor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 15:09:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17510864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiilikedragons/pseuds/hiilikedragons
Summary: Lance unintentionally acquires a dimension-traveling book of mythology and ends up in a meadow where a peculiar, curious 'elf' finds him.He just wants a little taste, that's all.





	Mythological

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bittersweetangstlord](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bittersweetangstlord/gifts).



> only partially betaed.
> 
> there's a bit of fluff before i change it to steel wool
> 
> enjoy your dom/top, rapey lance!
> 
> and yes, lotor is _such_ a bottom bitch in this particular piece... his protests sound like a bad pizza deliveryman porno. i forgot he had _claws_
> 
> i also didn't choke him; i'm rather astounded at myself by that.

Jogging as quickly as he could, shoes crunching against snow, and hoodie weathering the wind, Lance panted as he tried to make his way to the library at a quick pace without inducing a stitch in his side. He was a runner, but he was more about endurance than quick sprints. The library was pretty far away too. Well, whatever, he’d make it in time—and if he didn’t, well, he could charm up the library girl. She made eyes at him often, and it was Lance, after all, so he had made eyes back, along with a roguish grin.

Lance was right, after all, in that he’d arrive in time—but just barely. The only librarian remaining was the girl, as he expected, and she conceded to letting him in so late.

“Sorry,” he’d said and had flashed her a grin. “I really need this book, and I totally forgot to get it until now.”

If the girl was mollified or not, he wasn’t sure, as he’d rushed off to the back to get what he needed. It was a book on elven mythos, serving mostly as notes for his essay. However hard he looked, Lance couldn’t find a copy of the book on the Internet.

Checking out was quick, as the two of them didn’t want to be there for longer than they needed to be, regardless of whether or not they liked each other. Lance was tempted to ask her to come home with him to his apartment but thought better of it. He really needed to finish his essay, honestly.

Stepping outside, Lance tugged his hoodie closer to his body out of reflex as he realized it had begun to rain—and heavily. The storm had started so suddenly, but it wasn’t like Lance could tell if it was going to rain or not—dark clouds at night were a hard thing to catch, after all. Sighing, Lance prepared himself for a soggy jog home, somewhat jealous of the library girl with her car. He was rethinking his decisions, but it was too late for regrets.

Unzipping his jacket really quick, Lance shoved the book inside to keep it dry and rezipped himself. Tossing up his hood as the last defense against the rain, Lance steeled himself for a sprint. At least he still had energy thanks to choosing to jog earlier, instead of this mad scramble he had to do now. Lance began to dash in a straight line in the direction of his apartment. He had to cut through a forest, but whatever, he’d rather be creeped out for a little bit and get home quickly than miserably running through the rain because he was a wimp.

Lance’s hoodie was no match for the rain, and he was afraid that the book was also getting water damaged, but, well, he’d made his choices. The first set of heavily landing stomps into the forest floor already had Lance on edge, but he pushed forward. It was dark, creepy, loud with animal life, and nearly impossible to navigate. Lance was really regretting his decision now and was very tempted to turn around. The choice is taken from him, however, as his foot tripped over a protruding root, and he careened forward, landing face-first into another set of roots. He blacked out immediately, body going limp.

\---

When Lance next awoke, his nose was throbbing awfully. He groaned and rolled, reorienting himself onto his back. Blearily, he blinked his eyes while trying to rise. A massive headache was pounding his temples, and his nose throbbed terribly. Another groan slipped out of his mouth. “Damn,” he muttered. “Damn.”

Unsteadily, he rose to his feet and started to look around. His vision was still blurry, but Lance could make out the trees and foliage he was surrounded by. Dark roots, moss, and vines. A bush nearby. There was something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Then, it came to him: it was morning.

A heavy weight pulls his hoodie down, and Lance realized the book was still in his possession. With startling clarity, Lance realized what happened last night: he’d been trying to rush home due to the rain, had tripped like a buffoon, and then knocked himself out like an absolute idiot.

“Ugh,” Lance moaned. “Damn! I missed my assignment.” He sighed angrily and then kicked the tree root he’d been laying on. His body was pretty sore, but it was his nose that was the worst. It throbbed painfully, but luckily, it didn’t seem broken. He’d been a lot more nasally if it were, he was sure. Lance held his nose as he turned around in a circle, trying to orientate himself.

He was absolutely lost.

“Fuckkk.” Deciding that since everything was going to shit and thinking was too hard, Lance picked a direction and loped forward. Eventually, the forest would end. It wasn’t really that big if he recalled correctly, so eventually, he’d end up outside of it and could ask someone for directions if he didn’t recognize his surroundings immediately.

Lance wasn’t sure when, but he eventually realized that the forest was a lot bigger than he remembered because it just never ended. His stomach growled furiously, begging for food. He had planned on getting the book, returning home, and eating a late dinner while he pored over its contents. Now, he was doubly hungry, angry, bruised, and lost. His nose refused to let him forget his embarrassing trip and kept pulsating painfully. Lance glanced at the book he carried. He wasn’t sure why it was still with him, honestly. A sudden flash of anger had him chucking it into the brush. Fuck that book, he thought.

A lot of time had definitely passed before Lance finally relinquished himself to the feeling of utter panic. It had to be some hours at least, and his stomach felt like an angry animal was clawing at the interior lining. He doubled over and groaned. “Jesus,” he muttered. Lance remained stooped over by the tree, breathing in and out rather heavily and with staccato pace. He was hyperventilating from the feeling of panic and despair overtaking him. It took him a while, but eventually, he managed to clutch his head and force himself to calm down a little—enough to keep walking, at least.

Lance had initially picked a direction to wander, but by now, he’d kept doubling back, or taking random turns. It didn’t really matter to him in the end—he was utterly lost, and there seemed to be no way to solve that. Hunger was a more prevalent thought for him right then. As he’d been wandering, he had spied several mushrooms growing along the trees. At some point, he had entertained the thought of eating them but had been too afraid to really fully consider doing that—who knew if they were poisoned, after all—but now…

There was a set of mushrooms nearby that Lance eyed with a look of intense thought. His feet were sore, and he needed to sit, so he might as well do it here. Sighing, he plopped down onto a large root jutting out of the ground. It was so thick that it was more like a tree trunk itself than the root of a tree. The brown mushrooms were becoming more appealing by the minute. He remembered that most things poisonous were colorful, right? These should be alright. Lance kept telling himself that as his shaky hands reached out to pluck a couple of mushrooms.

“Well,” he muttered, “here goes nothing,” and then plopped them in his mouth with a wince. Lance chewed the squishy plant in his mouth, noting that it tasted like what he would expect from a mushroom, except a little sweeter. Wasn’t sweetness a sign of poison? Lance couldn’t remember. He’d already swallowed two mushrooms before the thought could really set in, and it was too late by this point for him to stop: he was ravenous and there proved to be edible food nearby. His hands kept feeding, and his mouth kept eating. Lance couldn’t stop himself.

It felt kind of gross to eat mushrooms straight off of a tree without cleaning or cooking it, but he couldn’t complain. Surprisingly, it took only several handfuls of mushrooms to fill him up. Admittedly, that should’ve been suspicious for Lance, but his mind was a little scattered right then, and he paid that fact no mind.

Lance sighed noisily and rose to his feet, feeling a second wind. “Alright!” he said to himself, forcing out his usual amount of cheer and enthusiasm. “We can do it, Lance. Just un-lost yourself in a creepy forest, that’s all.” He puffed in and out a few breaths as if to ready himself for something, and then began to trek off in a random direction again.

Definitely a few hours later, Lance was exhausted. His feet were throbbing, which was somewhat ironic as his nose had calmed down. It was like the pain transferred from his face to his feet. “Fuck me,” Lance muttered as he collapsed next to yet another tree, looking a lot alarmingly like the one he sat by earlier. “Fuckmefuckmefuck.” Lance’s eyes darted around.

The sun was just about to set—and about to leave Lance in utter darkness. There was his phone, but it was pretty much useless as there was no signal, he was running out of battery, _and_ his compass app seemed to be broken as it kept spinning in a circle. Worry and melancholy were eating away at Lance’s mind and he felt tears prick the back of his eyes. How the hell had he ended up in this situation anyway? Lance was sure that the forest he cut through was tiny. The one he was stuck in seemed huge and unforgiving.

Just as he was about to give up for the night and find a nice bush or a set of roots to huddle in like a vagrant, Lance took a wrong step into a tangle of deceptive roots and fell through. He hit the hidden ground beneath the roots hard and the momentum kept him rolling further downhill. Lance’s rolling fall only stopped because he finally hit the bottom, but it wasn’t like he was conscious to know that.

\---

There is a tickling sensation on his nose. Lance wrinkled his nose as consciousness tried to fight its way to the rest of his body. The urge to sneeze was overpowering. His head felt somewhat fluffy, though, as if he were floating. It was a hard sensation for him to grasp and think about. His stomach burned as if it contained a wildfire inside him. Groaning, Lance finally had the presence of mind to start blinking his eyes open.

Lance wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wouldn’t’ve been whatever his eyes blurrily took in as he kept up his blinking. It seemed to be the outline of a person, his mind supplied, as he kept trying to clear his eyes. Whoever it was was looming over him and blocking out the sun, which still shone brightly behind them. It was piercing and hurt Lance’s already smarting eyes. He groaned again and was shocked to hear a returning laugh.

“Are you awake?” a gentle voice asked him. Definitely male, though. Low, soft, nice.

The tickling sensation returned to his nose.

“This will help you.”

“That… tickles…” Lance said. He was surprised his voice was clear and not at all hoarse, as his throat felt dry and parched. An unknown scent was filling his nose. It was… best described as spicy, doing nothing to help the heat in his belly as he inhaled. The scent flowed from his nostrils straight into his groin. He throbbed.

“Sorry,” said the person, not sorry at all if the chuckle was anything to go by.

Suddenly, Lance felt a hand against his forehead. It slowly moved down to his eyes, forcing him to squeeze them shut. He jolted when that foreign hand started to rub at his eyelids. It was not comfortable, but it was also not too disturbing—merely surprising. Lance grabbed the other man's wrists, stopping him. “Hey, thanks, but…” He shook that hand away from his face. Lance kept blinking his eyes, trying to clear his vision. He also tried to lift his head but it felt foggy and heavy.

Lance groaned.

“Don’t strain yourself too hard.” A gentle hand on Lance’s chest pressed him back.

Lance’s vision had finally stopped swimming, and as he kept rubbing his eyes, things were sharpening into focus. The next time he opened his eyes, he stared straight up at the other male he was with. He gasped, not at all expecting what he saw—and how could he even explain it? The other male was gorgeous. That’s the first thing Lance noted. His eyes—they were weird. Beautiful blue, but it looked strange. Lance couldn’t make out much detail yet; the sun was still high in the sky behind his savior’s figure, but at least it wasn’t piercingly blinding like before. The last thing Lance saw were the ears—and he didn’t want to think too much on how pointed and long they were.

Groaning, Lance tried to sit up again, and that was when he realized his head was pillowed on the other male’s lap. He clutched a hand to his head. It was throbbing again, though at least it was more from a headache than anything else. Actually, the pain in his nose was gone, which was surprising. There was an answering throb from Lance’s belly, and distressingly, from between his legs. Now was a highly inappropriate time to have morning wood, he felt.

Soft, but firm hands began to help Lance sit up, but they fell away from his shoulders when he finally righted himself. The touch did nothing to help alleviate the heat in his body—actually, it made it worse. Tingles raced up and down his body, causing him to shiver.

“Ugh,” Lance groaned. He shook his head, feeling faint as a dizzying wave of nausea overwhelmed him. “Shit, that was a mistake.” Suddenly, he felt something ticklish brush against his nostrils and he inhaled the familiar scent of spiciness. It helped immensely to clear the fog and headache his cranium was fighting against. “That was…” Lance finally looked up fully into the face of his company.

 _Gorgeous,_ was all Lance could think as he kept staring dumbly at the other being. With the sun finally out of his face, Lance could make out much more detail, such as the small, amused smile on the other’s face. _So pretty._ Lance’s mouth opened and closed as he tried to talk.

“You seem to have recovered well,” said that nice voice.

“I—uh, yeah, thanks. I guess I did. Heh-heh…” Lance rubbed the back of his head. “What—what—” He wanted to ask, ‘what are you?’ as his hands made vague gestures toward the other person. The other… _elf_.

Thinking Lance meant something else, the pretty being waved the plant he was holding. “Oh, this? They’re called awakening leaves. The name isn’t very clever, but...” A bigger smile was curving those lovely, lovely lips. “It does help clear the mind.”

Lance started when he realized that the elf was lavender. How could he have missed that initially? Lance’s mind supplied a helpful reply: Well, generally, when you bash your head in twice by tripping and falling like some uncoordinated ape—

“Hello?” The elf's voice cut through Lance’s thoughts.

“AH! Uh, yeah?” Lance received an amused smirk as an answer to his awkward fumbling. “Sorry, I was just—I—my head—and you’re—” _so unreal_.

The sly curve of the elf’s lips was too much for Lance to handle. He kept staring at his lavender-skinned company as the elf smiled and laughed. “You’re strange.”

That seemed to help Lance snap back to his usual self. “I—I—me? Silly? I mean, I can be a funny guy, hahaha,” he trailed off into an awkward laugh, but recovered, “but I can also be a charming guy!” He pumped a fist against his chest. “A handsome guy,” he said with a sly look and leaned close. A smile bloomed on his face when he got an answering chuckle again. “I-I’m sorry, I forgot the introductions. I’m Lance! And you are?” He held his hand out, intending to go for a handshake.

The elf’s eyes widened at Lance’s sudden switch from silly buffoon to a mildly-but-still-not-there suave gentleman, but he smiled all the same. If anything, he found the human cute. “‘La—nce’?” he tried out the name, his tongue rolling over the letters as if trying to get used to the taste of saying ‘Lance.’

The human boy blushed at the way the elf murmured. His company still hadn’t told him his name yet, but… Lance was more distracted by the beauty of the elf. Elf! He was still trying to come to terms with that as well.

Finally, the elf looked at the hand Lance had extended. Curiously, he brought up his own hand to give to him. A delighted look flitted across his face when Lance took that hand and turned it around to kiss the back of the elf’s knuckles. Lance even winked at him.

“See,” Lance said, smirking a little. “A real gentleman.”

Transfixed on their hands, the elf didn’t reply. His lips remained slightly parted as he kept staring.

Lance licked his own lips, about to start speaking again. He had so many questions.

“It’s Lotor.”

“Y—Huh?”

“My name, it’s Lotor.” The lovely elf finally looked up from their still touching hands to meet Lance’s eyes. Lotor tilted his head as he gazed at Lance, wondering. Absorbing.

“Lo—tor…” It was Lance’s turn to taste a name. “Lotor. That’s cute. D-does it mean anything?”

That was apparently the wrong thing to ask, because the elf blushed a shade darker, and turned his head away. His shapely lips turned downwards into an annoyed frown.

“I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean—”

“Oh, it’s alright.” A wry smile twisted Lotor’s lips. “It means ‘maid,’ more or less…”

“‘ _Maid’_?” Lance was incredulous and hadn’t meant to parrot the beautiful elf, but it slipped out of its own free will. He flushed, embarrassed, at the look he received. “Sorry, I’m just—okay, there’s no saving that. That’s a horrible meaning. I-I mean, you don’t deserve—”

Lotor’s smile fully blossomed into a grin as he placed a finger on the human’s lips, silencing him. “Hush. I don’t care.”

“O-okay,” murmured Lance against the warm finger. His eyes became a little cross-eyed as he stared at it. “Still a cute name,” he said, mostly as an excuse to rub his lips against that finger. The burning in his belly grew, as did the tightness in his pants. It was hitting highly uncomfortable territory.

“‘Cute’? Thank you, I suppose. You’re the first to say that.”

“Well, it’s probably because I don’t think of ‘maid’ when I hear it. I think of—of you.” _Smooth_ , he thought.

It seemed to be the right thing to say because even as the elf recoiled, a dark blush was darkening those high cheeks of his. “Me?” Lotor wanted to hide behind a curtain of hair, but he had it slicked back today, with only the one errant bang that refused to cooperate.

“Yeah. Pretty you.” Lance reached out for those hands to grab in his own. “Hey, don’t hide. Pretty, pretty Lotor.” He shot a rakish grin at the slowly receptive elf, who was beginning to allow himself to be pulled by Lance.

In a hesitant and meek voice, Lotor uttered, “‘Pretty’?” A shadowed look of doubt flitted across his face.

“Yes,” Lance insisted immediately. “Pretty, lovely, beautiful. Pick one, they all apply.” Lance kept pulling the elf closer and closer to him, like reeling in a fishing rod. Soon, the elf was pulled flush against him with his head slowly being pushed to tuck under Lance’s chin. He was surprised that Lotor was so pliable, but the elf looked pretty overwhelmed. He considered letting them cool off a bit, but the heat in his groin said ‘absolutely not,’ and Lance’s arm was like an iron bar around Lotor’s shoulders. Usually, he wasn’t so pushy, but… Something about Lotor was so alluring that he couldn’t tell _himself_ no.

“I—”

“Shh.” Lance cupped Lotor’s face, caressing it, and feeling the heat radiating off of embarrassed cheeks.

Lotor tried again. “I—Thank you. I know you mean it.” With hands on the human’s chest, Lotor pushed away slightly. The blush on his cheeks was a permanent fixture at this point. Unable to meet Lance’s eyes just yet, to see the earnest belief in the human’s compliments, Lotor said to the ground, “I’m, um, can we…?”

The heavy mist on Lance’s mind cleared a little when he took in Lotor’s hesitant, shy face, and he realized that maybe he’d been too forward. He held his hands up and said, “Sorry!” thereby allowing Lotor to escape. The heat between his legs throbbed, almost as if angry with him for letting their prey escape. Lance shook his head, unsure where that thought came from, and to try to fully regain his senses.

Lotor raised a hand to cover his mouth delicately. “Um, sorry…”

“No! No—I just—I don’t know what came over me,” Lance said, and let out a nervous chuckle. A sheepish smile curved his lips as he dropped his eyes to the ground. “I’m sorry.”

Unable to help himself, Lotor stared that the intriguing human, taking in his features. “It’s okay,” he whispered absently as his eyes traced all over the human’s face. He took in messy brown hair, dark blue orbs… Lotor jolted when he realized the boy was looking right back at him, and that shy little smile of his had morphed into a much more salacious grin. Heat bloomed on Lotor’s cheeks again. He’d never had so much attention riveted onto him like this before… He had no idea what to do about it on top of also not having much experience about these things in general.

“Hey,” said Lance.

“Yes?” Lotor watched as the human scooted until they sat side by side instead of facing each other.

“Isn’t this better?”

“Mm…” _Maybe,_ thought Lotor. They were close, close enough to touch their arms and shoulders and rest their heads on each other if they wanted to. Lotor ducked his head and blushed.

It was better for Lance, at least, because he wasn’t constantly staring at the pretty elf’s face anymore. He still snuck glances, but he wasn’t outright staring anymore. “Hey,” he said, startling his company. “Hey, um… Where am I?”

Brow wrinkling, Lotor replied, “...this is the Calea forest. I like to ride here most days… Life at the castle is very, um, _stifling_.” He wrinkled his nose, thinking of his overbearing father.

“Castle…” Lance scratched his head. Where he lived, there was no _castle_. “Umm,” he began again. “And where is the castle… located?”

Confusion rising, Lotor regarded the human next to him. “South of here? About a handful of doboshes of riding…” A sudden thought occurred to him just then. “Oh, no… I think—I think I know what you mean to ask now. Where are you in the _world_?”

“Heh, um, yeah?” Lance rubbed the back of his head. “I’ll be reeeal honest with you, I have no idea how I got here.”

“...Interesting. Are you an Altean?” Lotor peered at Lance, curiosity igniting to new heights as he considered the person next to him. “They are known for miracles and very powerful alchemy... Did you teleport here?” The elf was growing steadily excited—it wasn’t like Alteans fell onto his lap every day, you know!

“A-Al—what now?”

Lotor’s expression fell. “...mm. Are you a human?”

“U-uh, yeah…”

Humans were a curious race too, but they weren’t known for anything special besides being very prolific in the expansion of their race. “Well, it _is_ a curious thing then, how you came to be here.” Lotor perked up. “I don’t know much about humans, but I don’t think they possess a high amount of alchemy abilities. What are your people like?”

Unconsciously, the elf leaned closer to Lance, nearly falling into his lap. The solid bar of heat between his legs was praying for it to happen, it felt like, with the way it twitched and throbbed and demanded attention. Lance swallowed, hard, Adam's apple bobbing. “Um, humans? Well,” he scrambled for words, “we’re pretty curious people who have a bad habit of getting into things we shouldn't.” Lance let out a nervous, strained laugh. “Uhh, and we, uh, have a fascination with-with the stars, and um, other things too, like—like elves.” He blushed.

Blinking, Lotor replied, “Elves?”

“Yeah… Humans love—I don’t know how to explain it? We are fascinated with myths and legends, and we are always looking to become one ourselves. Me, personally,” Lance raised a hand to the sky as a smile lit up his face, “I want to fly in space.”

Lotor’s gaze followed the human’s hand, enraptured. “‘Space’? You mean, the stars? Can you really do that?” If the elf leaned any further, he’d be on Lance’s lap. As it was, Lotor’s shoulder and a part of his chest were pressed up against Lance’s. Actually, he also had a hand resting distressingly close to a certain spot...

 _Please come closer and touch me,_ screamed Lance’s erection. He groaned and had to clench his hands into a fist to repress the urge to push it against the front of his pants. Lance wasn’t sure why he was so damn horny, but he was very sure that Lotor could help him out with the problem, and it was getting harder and harder for his brain to say no to his dick. He could feel dirt and grass gather into his sweaty palms as he tried his hardest to maintain control over his body.

“We’re uhh—” a high, almost scared laugh came out as impulses slowly clouded Lance’s brain— “We’re working on it.” He jumped when he felt pressure on his thigh and looked down to investigate, only to come face to face with a very close, very curious elf. A very pretty one. “Gah.”

For his part, Lotor’s gaze was fixed first on the human’s eyes, but it slowly drifted down to his lips. Blushing, the elf realized what he was doing and pulled back suddenly. “I’m sorry, I-I—”

Having had enough, and unable to control his impulses, Lance lunged after Lotor, pushing them both down into the grass. He landed fully on top of the shocked elf with both hands braced against the grass on each side of Lotor’s head. Lance took in the pretty sight beneath him: Lotor’s pretty blue eyes opened wide in shock, lips parted as equally wide, and hair splayed haphazardly all over the grass.

Hesitantly, one of Lotor’s hands reached out to grasp the human’s arm. “Wh-what—”

“Shut up,” Lance said roughly and leaned down to capture those enticing lips. He was all possession and dominance, hard and unrelenting. He snaked his tongue into the foolishly parted lips, exploring every inch he could reach.

Lotor’s eyes widen and his other hand shot out to grip at Lance’s other arm. He tried to wrench the human off balance, but Lance was a lot more muscular and sturdy than he looked. Belatedly, Lotor realized he could bite down on that slithering tongue invading his mouth—

Lance jerked his head back in time to save his appendage from being bitten off. “Feisty,” he muttered with a wicked curl to his lips. Then he licked his lips, craving more of Lotor’s taste. “Feisty, feisty,” Lance kept muttering. He leaned down and pressed an incessant kiss to Lotor’s lips, though he was wise to keep his tongue in his own mouth—for now.

“St—mmpgh—Stop!—mmf!—” Shock was overtaking most of Lotor’s senses and it took him longer than he wanted to admit to even think of turn his head away from that chasing mouth. His hands switched from gripping the arms to uselessly slapping against a hard, unyielding chest. He was horrified that he couldn't get the human to budge.

Lance remained undeterred. As a matter of fact, the resisting and denial was turning him on even more. He had many partners in the past, but Lance was usually the catcher, as it were, and almost never had been allowed to be so… domineering. A rush of adrenaline and arousal spiked through his veins as he started to grind his hips down against the elf’s lovely body. Was this what his partners felt? When they held _him_ down and fucked him? Lance was very eager to find out. He supposed this was what it was like to be on the other side.

Breathing shakily and trying to wriggle his way free, completely oblivious to the fact that he was only able to rub his lower half into the body above him, Lotor struggled. “Please,” he gasped, terrified, when Lance let up on the kisses. “Wait—please—D-don’t—” Lotor’s mind could not accept what was happening then. He scrambled for an explanation for the sudden switch in mood. He swallowed and tried meekly, “L-Lance? Please…”

Lance let his head drop down to rest his forehead against the lavender-skinned elf. He closed his eyes and groaned as the words filtered into his brain. A distant part of him was appalled by his behavior, but it was like a voice shouting against strong winds.

“M-m-mister Lance? A-are you listening?” Lotor was desperate for a response. “Please!” Tears were forming in his eyes, but they hadn’t fallen yet.

“Oh yeah, I’m listening alright,” Lance replied gruffly. His voice was husky and dry. Swallowing heavily, he opened his eyes to stare right into those pretty blue ones, all misted over and fearful. Another spike of arousal pooled in his groin. A cocky and wicked smirk was forming on his lips. “Pretty, pretty Lotor… You’ll look even prettier when you’re sobbing, begging for me.” He ground his hips against Lotor.

“N-no!” Lotor didn’t want to end up complying with the monster’s wants, but the tears were hard to hold back. He _wanted_ to beg—to get away! “W-why?!” he gasped out.

Lance ignored him, having encountered a dilemma he needed to solve rather immediately. The two of them were fully clothed, and if he lifted off to strip, the elf would surely run—or try to. He leaned down and pressed his lips against the elf, hoping to distract the little thing as he kicked off his shoes behind them. It was hard balancing and his mouth kept slipping away from Lotor’s as he wriggled, but he managed to shuck off his shoes.

Lotor still hadn’t stopped his incessant mewling and struggling. “L-let me go!” he half-yelled, wild with terror. His eyes darted around, looking for anything. “M-m-my father will have you killed!” he tried to threaten. Lance only looked amused. “Y-you don’t want to do this, p-please!” His hands scrabbled at grass, finding no grip. The dirt easily parted and only ended up in the palm of his hands or under his nails.

A rock. There was a rock nearby. Lotor wriggled and made a mad grab for it—too desperate, apparently. Lance noticed and immediately flung the rock out of reach, having the advantage of being taller.

Having formulated a plan that should work out, Lance lifted his hips up and settled on his knees, allowing him plenty of room to begin bunching up the fabric of Lotor’s clothes. Slowly, Lance managed to work the robes up and they lay gathered around Lotor’s waist.

The elf himself remained frozen in pure shock and fear, unable to comprehend that he was about to be—to be—! A small, distant part of Lotor managed to claw its way to the surface and he began to toss his head to the side and kick his legs and slap his hands against the human’s chest. “Pl-please—no!”

Lance began to gather Lotor’s hands together and pinned them above his head. Lance easily held the two thin wrists together in his one hand. “You,” he muttered, “are very loud.” His grin was filled entirely with dangerous intent. “That’s great.”

Lotor bit his lip to shut his mouth. Tears finally started to fall from his eyes, streaming down the sides of his face. He couldn’t think of a way to get out of this horrible situation. The human, somehow, was impossibly strong and unmovable. Were humans always this strong? Or was he just weak? His father’s words began to filter into his brain: _you’re too weak to defend yourself. Never leave the castle grounds_. Lotor mentally and profusely apologized to his father and hoped to the gods watching over them that he would come to save him.

It took a little awkward maneuvering on Lance’s end, but he managed to push down his pants and boxers to his knees at least. He was very glad he had been lazy and had chosen to remain in his sweats because it was a lot easier to shuck off than jeans. Free at last from its prison, Lance’s cock pulsed. The copious amount of precum leaking and coating his dick combined with the cooler air, but did little to hamper Lance’s lust. He licked his lips as his gaze roved over the terrified elf beneath him. Lotor’s pretty blue eyes were wide open with shock and horror, still streaming tears, and his lips were wobbling as he shivered in fear.

“ _Please_! I-I’ll—I’ll f-forgive your trespass—j-just let me go!”

Lance tilted his head from side to side, smiling in a way that would be considered playful if one didn’t factor in Lotor’s distress. “'Forgive… me?” He hadn’t thought about that: maybe the pretty little elf will hate him after this. _Or_ , another part of Lance’s brain supplied, _maybe he’ll like it._ You _do._

 _That’s different,_ replied rational Lance.

Seeing Lance pause in consideration filled Lotor with hope. He mistakenly took his chance to pitch another plea, “I’ll—I’ll help you—” _sniffle,_ “find a way h-home… Just—please....”

 _Nah,_ Lance’s lust said, _he’s gorgeous when he begs and cries like that_. Smiling wider, the human finally said, “Go on.” At the look of hope filling Lotor’s face, his smile transformed into a gleeful, malice-filled one. “Cry for me. Beg for me.” Laughing outright as a look of despair flitted across Lotor’s face, Lance reached between his legs to grip his throbbing shaft. Groaning, he gave it a few strokes, mostly to gather wetness onto his hands. Making sure he maintained eye contact with the sobbing elf, Lance traced his fingers around Lotor’s fearfully fluttering hole. “Shh…”

Lance pressed his finger in regardless of whether or not Lotor relaxed. He could feel that hot channel constantly clenching and unclenching around his finger. The cries from Lotor only served to goad Lance into continuing. “It’s only one finger,” he taunted the elf squirming beneath him.

The human was propped up more or less on his hands and knees, so Lotor took his chance to dig his feet into the earth, hoping to push himself away. “H-heathen!” he screamed. He tried to roll onto his side and managed to break his hands free from Lance’s grip, but he could only turn so much with Lance’s form smothering him and his legs spread so whorishly open. Lotor started to scream in the hopes that anyone could hear him—but he knew it was futile. He loved this field _because_ it was far away from any of his kin.

Annoyed with Lotor’s struggling, and having a hard time keeping his finger in the elf’s hole as a result, Lance withdrew his hands and pulled himself into an upright kneeling position. He slapped the elf, stunning him into a temporary silence.

If Lotor wanted to do it the hard way, then they could do it the hard and brutal way. Gripping the poor elf’s waist underneath all the bunched up fabric, Lance pulled Lotor closer until his bottom was flush against Lance’s cock. Groaning, he rubbed his aching dick up and down along Lotor’s perineum, resuming the cries from him as a result.

Scrabbling for some sort of leverage or escape, Lotor’s hands kept pulling up grass and dirt. It was moist and he couldn’t get a grip on the soil. “W-w-wait, please,” he stuttered between sharp, gasping breaths. “Pleasepleaseplease—” Lotor’s panic only grew when Lance stopped his teasing and finally pressed the head of his cock against a very unwilling hole. “ _No!_ ” Lotor wailed. “Please stop!” His panicked gasping onto worsened when Lance breached his tight ring of muscle and continued to push onwards. Bracing his hands against the dirt did nothing for Lotor. He could lift his bottom from the ground, but that was it. He couldn’t escape. Unadulterated panic had his heart beating furiously in his chest as he kept gasping for air. There was—there was something inside of him, in a part that it shouldn’t.

“ _MMm,_ keep screaming!” Lance panted roughly. He thrust hard, pulled back, and thrust in even harder. He was going to carve a place inside of that pretty, pretty elf, a perfect place for his cock. Keeping his grip tight on Lotor’s waist, Lance began to pump in and out of the elf, fully intent on driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust until he was buried to the hilt.

Lotor didn’t know what to do. Not with his hands, or with his legs, or even with his mind. He lay there, frozen and sobbing, as the human monster continued to cleave him in half. It felt horrible—there as a foreign _thing_ inside of him and it was filling him up and it was starting to feel good and Lotor couldn’t accept anything that was happening right then, so he kept panting and crying. He was growing more and more light-headed, feeling like he was going to faint. And, as if sensing this, Lance stopped his harsh thrusting, stilling while remaining deep inside of Lotor.

“You’ll be okay,” Lance murmured sweetly.

Lotor could’ve considered them warming, comforting words if it weren’t coming from a monster. He hiccupped, breath hitching when he drew in another.

Lance reached out again and cupped one of Lotor’s wet cheeks. He caressed it as if he were Lotor’s lover and not—not—not his rapist! “Darling,” Lance cooed. “Relax and everything will be better.” He lowered himself to lay flat on top of his lovely elf, only propped up on his forearms and knees.

Sniffling and looking appalled, Lotor only stared at Lance in terror. “Th-there’s n-no way…”

“I’d tell you to hush, but… It’d be a lie. I want to hear you, so don’t hold back~!” Lance said, voice becoming more sing-songlike towards the end.

Lotor sucked in his bottom lip, biting it to keep the noises in. Whatever Lance wanted, Lotor would make sure he never got it. He squeezed his eyes shut and turned his head away.

“Ah-ah-ah! None of that.” Lance tsked and turned the elf’s head back to him. He didn’t bother coercing Lotor to behave with words—he had better means. Lance’s body tensed up as he resumed his thrusting into Lotor’s hole. His hips snapped back and forth, rocking the body beneath him. The tortured expression on Lotor’s face was amazing, and the feel of his body seizing and clenching around Lance’s cock was as equally amazing. “Beautiful.”

Throwing an arm across his face, Lotor hiccuped and his head turned to the side again. He couldn’t look at him. It was a mistake to do so, as now Lotor had nothing to distract himself and the painful filling of his hole had turned… somewhat more pleasing. A shock ran through his agonized body, and he shuddered. His hole was unconsciously mimicking the shudder, tightening and shivering around the hard dick penetrating him. Unbidden, a moan slips through Lotor’s lips.

“Oh~! There?” Lance angled himself to keep hitting that spot, intending to force more and more moans from that pretty mouth. “Here? Here? Or _here_?”

“N-ngh—” It was useless for Lotor to protest. His mouth had stopped cooperating with him and it either emitted hiccups and sniffles, or wanton moans as the human above him drove again and again into him, slamming into that most pleasurable spot inside his body. He didn’t know he could feel so good~! Lotor’s head lolled backward as an overwhelming sensation flooded his body. “Ahh!”

Smirking down at Lotor, Lance ducked his head down to press his lips against a soft throat. He bit down, savoring both the taste of soft, silken skin and the startled jolt from the elf. Lance began to suck on Lotor’s neck. Distracted, his thrusts slowed down into deeper, longer pumps. Occasionally, when he had a mind to, Lance kept his dick lodged deep inside of Lotor and switched to grind his hips down in a circular motion instead, drawing pitiful moans from his gorgeous elf. Then he'd change back to pounding into Lotor.

He pulled his mouth away to prop himself up on his hands instead to stare down at his handiwork. Lotor had a dazed expression on his face, mouth hanging open as he either gasped for breath or moaned out a slutty noise. There was a red spot on Lotor’s neck where Lance’s mouth had been, but he knew it’d bruise into a fine mark later. Lance trailed his eyes downwards towards the mess of fabric and was delightfully pleased to see an upright cock peeking out from the cloth. “Somebody,” Lance began with that sing-song tone he liked, “is getting excited from all the fun we’re having~!”

“No!” shouted Lotor immediately. “I am—I am _not_!” His eyes darted around, unable to look Lance fully on in the face. He was also unable to accept the warm, tight feeling pooling deep in his stomach… and elsewhere. His hands immediately shot down to grab the hem of his robes and he tried to pull it down. It was a guilty admission without words, but he didn’t want to admit that.

“Look at that! You’re loving it. Admit it! Tell me!”

“No, no, no!” Lotor kept shaking his head.

“Okayy, we can do it the fun way!” Lance settled into place and resumed pounding into the now very slick hole. He dug his nails into the soft skin of Lotor’s waist as a feeling of euphoria began to take root. “ _Haah_!”

Lance’s head began to tilt back as he could feel his climax approaching. The sound of Lotor’s cries and moans began to filter in, distant.

Screaming, Lotor tried his hardest to block everything out, but no matter how hard he tried… He couldn’t push away the feeling of something punching deep into his body, ruthlessly pushing aside his flesh and forcing its way in and out of him. The pounding wasn’t an easy slide and Lotor felt like his inside lining were being lit aflame as the constant friction rubbed him raw.

The worst—the worst was the betrayal of his body. Lotor clenched his eyes shut and pushed the back of his hand against his mouth, then he bit down, hard. It did little to help him deny the pleasure that was pooling in his gut. The hardness of his own dick was something he couldn’t deny—no, it was beginning to throb in need of attention.

Lance watched with half-lidded eyes as more tears slipped down Lotor’s face, though the sounds were muffled by a hand against his mouth. About to explode inside of Lotor, ready to splash his cum against the searing hot inner folds of his pretty elf, Lance surrendered himself to his orgasm. “AhhHHH!” he moaned loudly, head thrown all the way back, as he felt his cock spurt a wave of cum into Lotor. Lance’s rhythm became erratic and transformed into more of a circular grind against Lotor’s pelvis as he felt himself being milked to the fullest.

The sound of sobbing was slowly being registered in the back of Lance’s mind as he rode his orgasm to the fullest, still spilling his seed. Head slowly lowering back down, he could see that Lotor had resumed his wailing, though there didn’t seem to be any more tears. A satisfied smirk slowly drew across Lance’s face as he dropped down to his forearms before collapsing entirely on top of Lotor. His body felt like jelly. Lance slid his abused knees from their spot in the rough dirt, finally taking notice of the pain.

Crushing Lotor beneath him, Lance groaned heavily and stretched. A hand found its way to silky white strands and he began petting. “Hush now,” he murmured at the choking elf. Lance leaned onto his side, partially uncovering Lotor. His cock slid out with a wet squelch. Idly reaching between them, Lance groped around for Lotor’s cock, ignoring the hands that came to try and stop him. “Your turn!” Lance smirked.

“P-please—” Lotor’s voice had become croaky and faded from all his screaming. The ‘please’ sounded more like whistling air. Still, he kept begging, because this was the final thing that kept Lotor from fully breaking. “Please, don’t.”

Lance ignored the weak hands trying to shove his own away and palmed Lotor’s cock. “Quiet. Enjoy yourself.”

A trail of precum was leaking as well, though not as much as Lance’s when they first started their fun. He fisted Lotor’s dick and began to pump up and down.

“Nooo!” Lotor groaned pathetically. He couldn’t find a use for his hands, and finally giving up, and let them flop down on body sides of his head. He wanted to cry, but no more tears came. He only produced pathetic sounds from his mouth. Gods, his father was right. Why did he think he could leave the protection of him and the guards?

Moans started to bubble out of Lotor’s mouth as the hot, harsh hand around his cock started to send pleasurable sparks throughout his body. The only thing really keeping him grounded was the pulsating pain that started at his abused entrance and extended deep inside of him.

Lance turned his head to brush his lips into strands of silky white hair and said lowly, “See? ...You like it.”

“N-no—”

“Shh. Give in. It feels good, doesn’t it?” Lance kept shushing the still-resistant elf every time Lotor made a sound that wasn’t a pleased moan or a shuddery cry. Lance kept picking up his pace until he was pumping hard on that strange, alien dick, wanting to force an orgasm from his elf.

A sudden deep, pulsating pain originating from Lance’s groin had him doubling over. He grunted, agonized, and released his grip on Lotor’s dick to brace both his hands in the dirt besides the elf’s face. Another pulse and throb had him dropping his head to press against Lotor’s as he squeezed his eyes shut. “Agh—” Unable to take it anymore, Lance rolled off of Lotor to curl into himself and grip his stomach. He was completely unaware of the sound of cloth and grass rustling as Lotor took his chance to crawl away and bolt.

Lance was much more worried about the horrible feeling of his stomach trying to eat itself. “Oh—fuck—!” He screamed, mouth half-buried in the dirt. The last pulse of pain was so immense, Lance felt his vision fading at the edges, and for the third time that day, he fainted.

\---

Lance didn’t have a nice, pretty elf to wake him up this time. Groaning, dazed and confused, he picked up his head to look around and whimpered when the movement brought him nothing but a headache. Gingerly, he lowered his head down and tried to ride out the flash of pain that had his vision whiting out. Once he believed that he would be fine to rise a second time, Lance blinked his eyes open and tried to sit up. There was no stabbing pain in his head this time, but Lance’s body was definitely sore.

Snippets of the previous day’s events were slowly filtering into his tired brain.

Lance had met an elf. A beautiful elf. And then he’d—he’d—Lance’s stomach curdled as he became more introspective. Fuck, he _raped_ a total stranger. That’s not a thought he wanted to wake up to, but it was reality. Goosebumps rose throughout his body as a cold dread fills his being. “Oh, _fuck,_ ” he muttered, half-panicked. Lance didn’t have any explanation for his behavior. He couldn’t rationalize it. His feelings were in complete turmoil. He began to heave a little, but managed to keep his bile in and nausea at bay.

Drawing up his legs to rest his head against them, Lance started to hyperventilate. “Fuckfuckfuck.” What had he done? His gaze drifted down to his crotch and was taken aback when he saw that everything was tucked away neatly in his sweats.

Wait.

Maybe it was just a dream?

Lance, wild-eyed, continued to stare at his crotch. _If_ , he rationalized, _i_ _t wasn’t a dream, why are my pants on?_ He vaguely recalled blacking out after— _it_. There was the—the—and… then pain, and then he blacked out.

 _Okay, to be fair_ , Lance thought, _I apparently blacked out a lot._ What was a dream and what was real?

 _All of it,_ he decided, _was a dream._ That answer, his gut decided, was wrong, and it wrenched painfully. He wanted to retch again. Lance’s brain couldn’t accept anything else, though. He didn’t want to.

Shakily, Lance rose to his feet, using a nearby tree as support. He clutched at his head all the while. “Oh fuck, who am I kidding…” He needed to get home. He needed to call his friends. He needed to… talk.

“Oh fuck,” Lance muttered. “I’m in trouble.” He only made it a few steps before he had to bend over a bush and vomit all over it. He didn’t produce anything besides a ton of bile and saliva. Tears leaked down his face as his stomach kept churning. “Shit,” he wheezed. He wiped his mouth once he felt that he wouldn’t puke again, and then straightened up. Glancing around, he was surprised to notice that he knew where he was.

The trees… they were different compared to the ones in the _other_ forest. And the forest he was in was a lot thinner. Lance could see cars whizzing by if he squinted. He staggered in one direction, knowing full well he’d break out of the line of trees soon and he’d be able to find his way home.

The forest floor was rather flat and lacking lots of protruding roots. Still, Lance managed to trip, though he didn’t slam his head on anything this time. He doubted he could handle anymore fainting. Looking down to glare at what he tripped over, Lance froze when he spotted a familiar book by his foot. Hesitantly, he reached down to pick it up. He was almost afraid to touch it.

The book was sitting in the shade and felt cool to the touch underneath Lance’s fingertips. He slowly curled those fingers around the edges and lifted up the book. Eyeing it dubiously, Lance decided to take it home with him. It almost felt like a trophy.

**Author's Note:**

> there is only the one lancelot in the series


End file.
